Cutting through it all

Like many great trailblazers, Somalia's preeminent vocalist, Maryam Mursal, was born into a world of hardship with an unassailable will. She grew up in a Muslim family of all daughters, but was determined not to let her gender hold her back. In 1966, backing centuries of men-only tradition, the teenage Mutual became one of the flint professional female vocalists of the Muslim faith. It wasn't long before her mastery of the Islamic and African music native to her country won over her fellow Somalians, and Mursal's own lively blend of music, Somali jazz, which she developed singing in nightclubs, became the sound of her homeland.

In 1986 Mursal sang a song called "Ulimada" ("The Professors"), a thinly veiled criticism of her country's ruling dictator, which led to a ban of her music and another first: In order to feed her family, Mursal became Somalia's first female taxi driver. When the regime fall in 1991, Mursal once again became a shining star in her country. Soon, though, the intertribal fighting in Somalia escalated, sending her and her five children packing. They spent seven months crossing the Horn of Africa by foot, bus, any means necessary, to safety. Mursal was eventually granted refugee status by Denmark, where she was discovered singing to a crowd of three hundred fellow refugees In 1992 by Soren Kjoer Jensen, now her producer and manager. He brought Mutual to the attention of Peter Gabriel, who decided to sign her to his Real World label in 1994.

Mursal's breathtaking solo debut, The Journey, a blend of her own Somali jazz and Western Instrumentation, charts her course. The story of a trek both physical and spiritual, it's a remarkable document. Says Gabriel, who added backing vocals to the record, "Maryam is an artist of enormous grace and extraordinary vocal power. The story of her life and struggle has inspired an album that has truly touched me." We spoke to Mursal by phone from Denmark, with Jensen translating.

RAY ROGERS: Tell me about your incredible Journey across the Horn of Africa. When and why did you decide to flee Somalia?

MARYAM MURSAL: It happened in '91. After eleven days of fighting, I decided it was time to leave because my father s brother had died in my house. When I looked outside, I could see dogs, cats, and chickens eating from the dead bodies lying in the street. I knew it was time to get out.

RR: How did you leave?

MM: We went the first twenty-five miles on foot, then got on a crowded bus to one city, and another bus to another city. After that, I paid heavy charges to go on land cruisers and lorries, and sometimes also by foot. First down to Kenya, where we ended up in a refugee camp. But my daughters were threatened with rape, so I bribed our way out and we fled to Ethiopia, then up to Djibouti.

RR: What gave you the courage to keep going?

MM: Well, our family has a history of bad luck, so I have a lot of experience with problems. But I get my strength from God, from Allah, and I need to take care of my children. I'm a big mother, I have a lot of children.

RR: What sort of prior bad lack had your family experienced?

MM: I'm from one of the small tribes or clans. It's called Midgan. We are treated as gypsies in Somalia. The other tribes are bigger than us. They say we're gypsies, we're no good, and nobody in our clan marries into other clans. But I married someone from another clan. I don't believe we're an inferior tribe. I don't believe we are not worth anything.

RR: Where does your determination come from?

MM: My family. I have no brothers. There were only girls. I soon found out that my mother was worried that there were no sons to do the work. So even as a little girl, I learned to work like a boy, to take care of the family. That's still what I do.

RR: Tell me about your song "Ulimada," which led to your being banned in Somalia.

MM: It's about the love of two people and the need for science to get rid of certain problems. But really, the song was a double entendre. The lyrics were a subtle criticism of our president, Mohammed Siad Barre, for killing his own people.

RR: Why did you risk your safety in Somalis to release this song?

MM: We as artists are responsible if something wrong is taking place in our society. It's very important for us to speak up, even though we may have to do it with a double tongue. We have to speak out for our people.

RR: Yet many choose to be silent.

MM: That's true, everybody will keep silent. But you know, artists are free people. The artists are the only ones who have the courage.

SOREN KJOER JENSEN: As in many other cultures, it's a bit more accepted for artists to speak freely than for ordinary people.

MM: Yes, and when I sang this song, they banned me. They dragged me to the secret police and interrogated me: "Why do you sing these words? It's against our president." And I said, "Oh, me? I'm just a singer. I don't write the words, I just sing them."

RR: Did you think it would bring you so much hardship?